A Cybertronian's Clockwork
by Autobot Ratchet CMO
Summary: After the war for Cybertron, things start to change. Crimes are committed, innocents are in danger, and the trusted end up tricking. Nightrod and his droogs are a gang on Cybertron who terrorize the town, but what happens when a forced teammate can't take it anymore? Story is based on A Clockwork Orange. OC. Will be violence. Written in same style.
1. Chapter 1

It was a normal day for me, Nightrod, and my fellow droogs (gang that is) who had followed me everywhere. There was the umnyys (smarties that is), Ratchet and I, the meeds (mediums that is as well), Clank and Scavange, then there was Jacktooth. He wa'nt dumb, but he wa'nt bright in the style o' fighting clobber like.

Now this here is our tale of an adventure we wa'nt losing for a long time.

'Ey Rod?' asks Jack in a slabyy (feeble I believe is a better word) tone of golos. 'What is it sparkman?' My golos had been booming since I was the bigger of the droogs. He says, 'See them two dovvel zhenshchins (pretty femmes they were) over there sparkman?' And I replied in the liking, 'Wonder if they got some crezz for the taking?'

Clank, standing next to my ukho (hearing devices), bleemed out, 'Oy! Why waste a good veschie? We be getting by a lot fine!' Clank's servo proceeded to slap the back of Ratch who now looked a little zelenyy (He had been getting sickish). 'I say we treat 'em. As a treat fer usssins (forgive my poor example of a droog, he clobbers the gradies a horrorshow hard though). By now, ol' Ratch was shaking his nazad off. He wa'nt a tuffin, but got a horrorshow lot good wence you got him on the pole.

And then he goes out saying, 'Nightrod, we shouldn't be stealing from the femmes. Let alone others.' I gave ol' Ratch a good bit'ya cross the right cheek and he shut up good after that. My sparkmans and I stalked all prancer like to the veschies and gave our 'Helloes' and jumped them right in the middle of gorod.

Those veschies just kept on fighting and tired themselves out and my droogs decided on Clankies suggestion. 'Cept that Ratch who din't seem too hot on the thought of treating to the vesches.

'_Rod ims an old muzhskoy (mech), whats dah point in slammen him in the podbordok (chin)?' said Clank._

_Ratchet was shaking, what language was this? Nothing he had ever heard on Cybertron._

_He had heard about the strange talking mechs in local news but always shoved it aside as a scare. Now that he was face to face with the culprits, he wished he was right. _

_A nightly walk had turned into his meeting them, and now he was on the verge of distraught tears._

_'Please, just take my credits, I don't want any harm caused.' A few bluish coins were dropped in front of the shaking mech's pedes. The one stated earlier as Scavenge's blue clawed servo reached to pick them up from the ground, but Nightrod backhanded him on his right face-plate._

_'We have_ _no need for crezz medzy, but we are looking for a clobber.' Nightrod made a motion with his fists, punching one open servo with a closed. 'I amn't playing with you medzy,'_

_A fisted servo rose into the air, it was black and hard to see in the night. Ratchet squinted at the figure and backed up as far as he could into a wall._

_All four of the bots began to strike and beat him as he screamed for help to the passersby. Little did he know that everybot in town was afraid of the culprits. His frame fell lax to the ground as haggard vents shook him. _

_'What a weak'n he be,' said Scavange. 'Let's finish his skorry (sorry) kadr (frame) off!'_ _As Scavange neared the body, he was again backhanded by Nightrod. 'No. I've a better idea. We could use another droog.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**Please, I would advise all people who do not wish to encounter scenes such as death, violence, or any others in like terms to leave this page. There is also a bit of language in the following chapter. If you do not wish to read such language, I would not like to harm any readers with the content. Thank you for reading the following chapter.**

Looking back on those old times, I realize how reckless we droogs were. We were young mechies with a desire of crime. So here starts our terrifying rasskaz of an adventure.

"What's it going to be then, eh?" Those slovos rang in my dear ookas O sparkmen, for they were to be heard many a time to me. We were now at the Maccadam's oil house as your faithful and soon to be friend narrator drank their can of maslo, handed by the mustached waiter. The group was too quiet. I said:

"What's it going to be then, eh?" All their blue and red glazzies staring at me. I took another sip of my maslo. "Are we taking a trip round' the old Cybershops?"

Their gullivers all went up down up down up down. C'ept for Ratch who was silently sipping at his moslo. Scavange raised his rookies high in the air shouting, "We all deserve a night's fun! Since the other night was a little ruffin, bein chased by those vardygars en all." And at that, each gulliver again went up down up down up down, c'ept Ratch who was still silently sipping and probably trying to like ignore us.

"Them vardygars is tough," went Jack added by a hyuk hyuk hyuk. A chorus of hyuk hyuk hyuking soon followed. C'ept for poor Ratch who looked in a dremzzly sort of haze.

As if in complete sync, each of my droogs put down their empty cans of oil and headed for the outside. Clank clank clank went the clak clak clatter of our peddies as we clakkered across the metal ground. As our destination arrived, each looked at Clank. Clanky was a type of shifter. He could shifty himself if he viddied it necessary and he could shifty us too if he viddied it necessary.

So once my sparkmen and me got to the shoppy, Clank transformed himself into what we believed was the mythical figure as Alchemist Prime. Scavenge took Solus since he was a pervertish type of droog, Jacktooth chose Prima, and your humble and dear friend took the choice of like Vector. But when Ratch's turn came he simply shook his head left to right to left and said, "I won't do it. I simply won't do it." And to add to his dramaticness, a heavy stamp of his pede added a large boom. So wise Clank decided to trick the starry vech. It was a mean malo trick from his mean malo servo, but Clanky changed Ratchet into Optimus Prime.

Now all of the droogs were smecking at Ratchet's face by this. But maybe this was a malo bit too mean of us for he began the boo hoo hooing quite soon afterwards. We'd heard that Ratch had been friends to the figure but never thought it to be true. So now we had a teary vech so we decided to leave him out of this one.

Clanky changed him back to his normal self, but it was like something snapped in starry Ratch. He said:

"Clanky, I'd like to be Amalgamous." So now Ratch got a good cheer cheer out of his brave turn and Clank changed him. So now us five brave droogs stalked like into the shop. With our newly made and official droog, we would never be caught.

That night, Ratch looked a lot happier and smeckier than any of us droogs had seen him. It was a joyful day to see the starry vech like that. I thought about it on my way back to the old home where my oh and dee were waiting for their only dear youngling. So I found my way up the tall flight of stairs and into the dark home. Oh and dee must've been recharging, so I made my way to my room.

Oh my comfortably comfortable berthroom. Full of my stolen merch and music by wonders and wonders of beautiful human artists. My favorite having been Ludwig. I took out my favorite piece by him. It was a beautiful mix of wondrous instruments that I've never heard of. My ookas were in pure bliss of the long waited crash crash crash of stick beaten instruments and the tweetle tweetle tweet of the airy ones. I patiently awaited my favorite part of the whole piece my brothers.

And once that part came, pure bliss shot up my back struts and through my veins. My glazzies were going flicker flicker and I thought of what had happened today. That Ratch was sure acting a bit bezoomny from being all stuck up and sad to suddenly wanting a good part in the crime slot, but I didn't worry. My glazzies once again flick flick flickered and I was out in a deep recharge, still listening to Ludwig Van.

_My dream was a rich rasskraz of beating a young devotchka and making her my little suka. Bastard she would cry which would only make it better for me. As the song continued I would continue in treating myself until this devotchka finally got away. And as I awoke from my dream, I was thinking that the following day would be a real good one._

**Thank you for reading the chapter, I'm sorry if anyone thought it was terrible. These first few chapters are just test chapters to see if anyone is reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Just for everyone who is reading this to know, Ratchet was a completely added on character. His role is kinda like that one man's role at the beginning of the book who was interested in Crystallography and Snowflakes…but he also acts as a sort of Dim. Jacktooth is really the main character supporting Dim, and I am sure that Scavange takes the role of Pete. Of course you all know that Nightrod represents Alex. Which leaves George to Clank! I'm not entirely sure of this but so far it seems to be going that way. Oh and another thing, no I'm not creative enough to come up with a name of a Cybertronian composer.**

As my glazzies opened, I stretched out all of my metal plating. I viddied the sun shining ever brightly on this day, knowing now that it would be good. Getting up I was still humming the tune of Ludwig Van. That beautiful artist rang through my receptors again and again which created the same image I had viddied in my dream the night before. It being a beautiful day, my gulliver aching with pain, I decided to call upon my dear dee and tell her I had been catching of something.

"O' Danni dearest!" said I in a screaming, and much far from being inside, goloss. "I have a pain in my gulliver o' and it won't stop dearest Danni," said I oh my brothers. By now I had not been faking, for I had grown tired of my own goloss.

Danni, taking her dannilly action upon me came into my room as I lay on my berth viddying (that is faking more than looking) rather ill. She said:

"Oh my dear sweet sparkling," as she cradled my cheek to check for warmth. "Are you sure you musn't go to the schooling house today?" I, being I, continued to look rather ill. "Oh dear Danni I would love to go," I added one or two dramatic coughs for her liking or unliking more likely. "But the pain in my gulliver is much too oozhassny for me to drag on to the old skolliwoll. Oh!" I cried this oh as if I was to die right then dear brothers. See, your humble narrator was a very good liar and still is to this day.

So my Danni hath left me and I was to warm my moslo and drink it if I were to get better in my gulliver. I viddied my Ludwig music out of the corner of my glazzy, therefore I plucked it from its spot and put it in my music machine. As I once again listened to pure bliss, I fell into a much needed recharge. Maybe I was falling a bit bolnoy, but I would fall much worse later.

It was hours later I found myself being awoken out of a sweet sweet recharge to banging on our front door. I got up a little groggily having just woken. I gave the door a good tolchock and saw my mentor standing there. I said:

"Very good day isn't it sir," in my very gentlemanly goloss. My mentor ignored me completely. "I heard today you weren't feeling well from your creator." I nodded, putting a rooker over my gulliver and moaned. "Oh oh oh," I horned. My lovely mentor made his way past me and sat in our skorry rocking chair as if it was the only vesch he came for. He said:

"Nighrod, you shouldn't be skipping your school. You are a smart youngling with potential." I completely ignored my starry teacher. He obviously had no idea in his rasoodock as to what a normal mechy my age likes. And so I let him drawl on and on and on about how I should be more respectful of my elders and on and on and on about how I shouldn't be skipping school. So I said my I'm sorrys and my I'll never do it agains and watched him leave. He wasn't teaching me anything. Eh, my teacher didn't realize he was a failure.

And so, later that night, as my oh and dee were drinking their rations of enny, I said I was going off. So I took my leave and met my droogs downstairs. "Ya ready to haul out mechlings," asked Scavange. The lot of us nodded, even that starry mech Ratchet he had an odd smirky look on his face though.

So I know lots of you are asking why I didn't find my suspicions in this mechy, but I can surly tell you I knew something was wrong. Ya see, your narrator didn't take too kindly to rotten droogs. So sometimes I'd beat 'em up. But, stupid as it was, they didn't seem to like it much. Little were I to know that they would be planning something. Something that I would soon regret O' brothers.


	4. Chapter 4

"There it is my mechies." Yes that was me, I was pointing out the pointy place of the richest Cybertronian devotchka in town. Me and my droogs were planning on robbing her with a slight touch of the ultra violence, if necessarily necessary. The rupture of chirp-like mews and myowls rang in my audio sensors from those cyberkitty cats she loved so dearly.

"Eh, why doesn't you go in?" Jacktooth spoke up, secretly coming up behind I. "You guys some chicki-wicks or somthin," I replied as I knocked on the door. Jacktooth looked about ready to kick my aft, yet he held back. "Yeah," he said. "We is some chicki-wicks."

"Who is it?" The worried voice of the starry devotchka rang through her cyberkat filled house. "Help!" I was good at acting. "My friend! He's been hurt! Real bad injury with enny krovvy everywhere! Oh help ma'am, I just need to com the guardies!"

A thoughtful moment paused as the devotchka contemplated in letting your narrator in or not. "I've heard that language before. Never mind you, I won't have a word with you. Get away from my home." I said:

"Alright ma'am alright alright I'll leave. But I will report you to the guardies for killing my friend." I stepped my pedes on the ground, watching the door unlatch so that the lady could tell if I was gone or not. As her small (very small indeed) body came out, I ran inside. "Oooo what lovely things you have you dirty bitchy bitch devotchka." The artwork was full of bots without armor on, and I gazed into the beautiful glazzies of the one your narrator seemed to love most. She had beautiful groodies on her beautiful form. How lovely. I quickly plucked it off the wall.

"You fool!" She cried out and ran towards me and smashed a small statuette upon my noggin. "Ow you bastard!" So I gave her a good kick in the leg and watched her fall over. The devotchka dragged herself up as I was looting, and grabbed the com. "Police! Police!"

Suddenly noticing this brilliant plan, I threw a glass figure at her head and watched her crash unconscious to the ground, bright enny flowing from her tiny helm. And then I heard sirens. "Frag." Running outside, I found my droogs standing right there. "We gotta go droogs!" Soon, I started my transformation. Then I was cut off by the sharp pains of punching and kicking and soon half consciousness. I could hear the sirens getting closer and see my droogs transform and drive off (Scavange flying as he was a seeker) and then see two black pedes. The figure was a blob, but as I looked up I could make out doorwings and a chevy, well…chevron really. "Ah, it's you." I couldn't make out the voice, but it sounded calming so I listened. "You're going assay for a long time mister." Two strong servos picked my lax figure up. I saw another red blob go into the house. After this, I fell into dark blackness on the police mech I believe said his name was Prowl.


End file.
